Page 49 of Heart Over Heels

“All of the above,” Darby answered.

“There’s chips in the cabinet.” I jerked my chin toward it. “Can you grab them?”

He padded over, stretching onto his toes to reach the bag on the top shelf. Even in heels, he had to strain, his fingers barely snagging the edge of the bag to pull it down.

I laid out plates, then assembled the sandwiches with mindless ease, keeping my hands steady while my head was anything but.

Darby drifted closer with the chip bag crinkled in his hands. The knife rasped against the bread as I cut the sandwiches down the middle, then set the halves on plates. Darby added a handful of kettle chips to each before I took them and nodded toward the breakfast nook.

We went to the table where I set both plates down then sat. Darby slid in across from me, immediately kicking off his heels and settling in.

The sight tugged a smile out of me before my gaze drifted back to the fridge. I couldn’t quite see the photo from this angle, but I didn’t need to. Molly’s smile was burned into me. Her face.

My throat tightened, and I dragged my eyes back down to find Darby staring.

He peeled the crust off his sandwich then gave it a nibble.

“Does this dinner come with a show?” he asked.

“I thought it was breakfast,” I countered.

His grin spread wide, and just like that, he stole the room—along with my attention and thoughts—the same way he did every night at the Dollhouse. It struck me then that he was the first guest I’d welcomed into this house. The only person besides the guys at the VFW who’d made the effort to sit across from me and see me since my discharge.

I wanted to see him too.

“How about two truths and a lie?” I suggested.

Darby’s nose wrinkled. “We already played that game.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I was as honest as I could have been.”

Amusement set his orange eyes aglow. “As I recall, you weretoohonest.”

“Maybe.”

He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed it slowly. “So, do I go first this time?”

I nodded and leaned back in my chair.

Darby tapped a finger against his plate, letting his gaze circle the room as he considered.

He was animated even in stillness, every part of him humming with life. Fascinating. And more beautiful than any man ought to be. More beautiful than most women I’d known.

“Let’s see… One.” He lifted a finger. “I can quote the entirety ofCinderellafrom memory.”

“Cinderella? The Disney movie?”

“Don’t interrupt.” He tsked then raised another finger. “Two, I can juggle.” He paused then, and his lips pursed in a smile that held more hurt than humor. “And three, I’ve always wanted to be a mom.”

“Is that the lie?” I asked.

Darby’s cheeks puffed, and he folded his arms beneath the ruffled collar of his dress. “Anyone can be a mother, Mercy. It’s a matter of mindset. I think I’d be good at it.”

His certainty left no room for doubt.

“Oops, all truths?” I asked, trying to sever the thread of tension that had drawn taut between us.

“Looks like.” He scooped up a chip and stabbed it at me. “Your turn.”